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TWO DEEAMS: 



I. JAEL. 
II. BATHSHEBA. 



BY 

C. S. JESSOPP 




FOR PR I VA TE CIR CULA TION. 



A. H. GOOSE AND CO., 

EAMPAKT HORSE STREET. 

1882. 



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205449 
'13 



J AB L. 



''J^LESSED be Jael, above ^omen blest, 
^ Heber tbe Kenite's wife ! " 

Tbus rang tbe strain, 
"VMiile round me pressed the glad, triumphant 

throng 
Of wild-eyed women, by Deborah led, 
With dance and timbrel. She, the Prophetess, — 
Inspired, victorious, exultant, — blessed 
Me, childless, widowed ; and the hoarser shout 
Of warriors red from battle swelled the cry — 
'^ Blessed be Jael!" 

B 



2 JAEL. 

Am I blest indeed ? 
Alas, no eclio in my silent heart 
Gave back tlieir music ! Wearily and sad, 
As one wbo vainly listens in the choir 
For a loved voice, and finds but jarring notes. 
Where that is mute which was its soul of sweet- 
ness, — 
So, from their mirth I crept away, unseen 
Amid the deepening twilight, to my tent. 
Within the shelter of the narrowing gorge 
That from the base of oak-clad Tabor winds 
To fair Esdraelon's broad pasture plain. 
Where Sisera's camp was pitched, which Barak's 

host, 
In license of young victory, rifles now. 
Nor thence so far removed, but that the stir 
And shout, and clamour jubilant of the tribes 
Can reach me, through the crystal wintry air, 
W^ith ever, in faint bursts, the choral song, 
'' Blessed be Jael ! "—Am I blest indeed ? 
As in a viol laid by, and silent long. 
Some wind-swept string gives forth a faltering note 



JAEL. 3 

Of its old sweetness, so, at memory's breath, 
The far, faint music of my youth once more 
Thrills on my lonely musing. 

To those words 
How bounded once my heart in glad response ! 
When to my husband's home a joyous band 
Led me, a willing bride ! 

My love ! my lord ! 
Flower of his race ; strong, brave, and beautiful ; 
Sage in the council, valiant in the field. 
Kindly to youth, and reverent to age ; 
True heart, and blameless faith, and lavish 

hand ! — 
WeU might our nuptial song proclaim as ' ' blest 
Above aU women, Heber the Kenite's wife ! " 
Eich in the wealth of bondsmen, flocks and 

herds, 
We lived, ''the dwellers in the tents," and roamed 
For summer breezes on the mountain heights. 
And winter pasturage on lowland plains ; 
For then the land had rest, though sometimes 

stirred 

B 2 



4 JAEL. 

By mutterings, as in unquiet sleep. 

Somewliat I pined, that in our pleasant liome 
Tinkled no children's laughter; and I kne^ 
(As years stole on) my husband's kinsmen oft 
Urged him to give to some young fruitful bride 
My place beside him. But he put them by, 
Those cruel counsels, with his sweet, grave smile: 
And once, surprising in my downcast eyes 
The trace of tears, '* Yex not thyself," he said ; 
''These idle babblers move me not, nor shake 
My stedfast love ; for true thou art, and dear, 
And better than ten sons." 

At last, when hope 
Had almost failed, God sent a maiden babe 
To brighten the content of tranquil yeai^, 
As breaks the moon on calm of starlit skies. 

But evil days drew near ; our tribe was weak, 
Lea;Qing on Israel ; and she, perverse 
And thankless, from her purer worship turned 
To base idolatry of heathen shrines. 
Till God-abandoned to her ancient foes, 
The Canaanite upon her prostrate neck 



=^ 



JAEL. 5 

Planted his tyrant foot, and cruslied lier down 
With, stern oj^pression. Jabin's robber-hordes, 
With violence and rapine, sword and fire, 
Despoiled the land, and drove our scattered flocks, 
And slew our shepherds by the plundered folds. 

Oiu' Kenites met in council. Heber urged 
That we should call on Israel to rise, — 
On Israel's God to aid, — and cleanse the land 
From the foul leprosy of heathen rule. 
But the chiefs answered, " We are weak and few. 
We may not look for help from Israel's God, 
Whose oracles are mute. Nor are our wrongs 
From Jabin, still our good aUy and fi-iend : 
They are from Sisera's lawless followers. 
Who no restraint will brook from prince or king. 
Nay, let us leave the open tents that tempt 
The predatory swarm : gather our slaves, 
Our helpless sick, our women and their babes 
Within the gates of Kedesh, while our herds 
Graze within bowshot of her fortressed walls ; 
There safe abide, awaiting happier days." 

Said Heber, ''Ye will rather flee than fight ? 



.^'= 



6 yAEL. 

For me, I may not figlit, and will not flee. 

Is Jabin friend ? Then must lie right my wrong. 

I stay without the walls, as ever free 

To breathe pure air on mead or mountain crest." 

So still we wandered 'mid the grassy vales, 
Or wooded heights of Tabor, till one day. 
Some heedless herdsmen, straying from the rest, 
A band of bold marauders seized and drove 
Their charge away, leaving them bruised and 
bound. 

But when my lord, with stern remonstrance went 
To Sisera, he answered with a laugh, — 
*' Sons of the Kenite, these are stirring times. 
Ye ask too much, that I should lend my troops 
To be as watch-dogs for yoiu' silly flocks. 
True, ye are Jabin's friends, but Jabin's foes 
Are they with whom we deal. Look to yourselves. 
If my unruly followers break bounds, 
And do ye wrong, see to their chastisement, 
But irk not me with squabbles of the tents." 

Thenceforth, when prowling human vultures 
swooped 



JAEL. 7 

On flocks they deemed defenceless, in tlie stead 
Of timid shepherds, followers armed and strong, 
Led by a fearless chief, confronted them, 
And scattered them, and chased them from the 

feUs. 
And once their boldest captain Heber slew, 
Hanging his carcase up beside the way ; 
So that the rumour spread, some fiend had lent 
The strength and cunning to his brain and arm : 
And soon his name alone sufficed to guard 
The tents and folds, though watched by timorous 
slaves. 

Then, taking heart, oiu* kinsmen ofttimes came 
Forth from the city walls, to join in hunt 
Of hart or roebuck ; or in woods the bear, 
Or wild boar in the marshes ; so secure 
We lived amid all peril and alarm. 

Ah, false and mad security ! One day, — 
A day accurst, — a hideous, iU day, — 
My child, my own, my fairest, went from me. 
Among a merry band, and guarded well, 
To a bride feast in Kedesh : but her sire 



i^. 



8 JAEL. 

Had gone a tln^ee days' journey witli his friends, 
To seek a lion, lurking in tlie rocks ; 
T^Tiile I, ^th all my handmaids, stayed to greet 
The hunters' blithe return. 

The second day, 
In the cool sunset hour, I stood and looked 
Towards distant Kedesh, with a smiling thought 
Of my own fleeted youth, — the happy smile 
Of motherhood, who feels her spring re-flower 
In the fresh blossom of her maiden child. 
When, in the clear, transparent light, I marked 
A crowd slow issuing from the city gates. 
Which slowly, — slowly, — took the mountain path. 
Winding to Heber's tent. 

No nuptial pomp, 
No joyous festive gathering was here ; 
But veiled and drooping heads, and garments rent. 
And as they nearer drew, the long shrill wail 
Of infinite sorrow pierced the quivering air ! 
I watched, bewildered, breathless, with a dread 
Of coromon evil ; but no fear that prest 
Closer, until the dark procession paused 



JAEL. 9 

Before me, and dividiiig in th.eir midst, 
I sa"^ tlie seeping handmaidens and slaves, 
And kinsfolk who liad companied my child ; 
But her, within my empty arms I clasped, 
Ah ! never more ! 

Without the city's gate, 
Scarce farther than a javelin's flight, but hid 
By sudden beetling crags, and overhung 
By a wild growth of sycamore and vine, 
Bubbled a pool of water, famed to hold 
A spell of mystic virtue. Thither went. 
At early dawn, a throng of laughing maids 
And matrons, slightly guarded, for no foe 
Had ever seemed to hover near the spot ; 
But as they bent above the well, or played 
In heedless gambols, from an ambush leapt 
A troop of armed men, who barred their flight, 
And stilled the women's shrieks with threats and 

blows. 
And bound the slaves, who scarce resisted them. 
Then he who seemed the leader, called 

" Stand forth, 



•Vj 



10 JAEL. 

Heber tlie Kenite's daugliter ! " 

And my sweet, 

A little" trembling, but unskrinking, moved 
From tbe pale crowd, and to tbe savage face 
That scanned ber, lifted ber soft fawn-like eyes, 
In wbicb tbe innocent cbildbood, unabasbed, 
Sbowed less of fear tban wonder. 

Tben tbe cbief, — 
'' Harken, ye women ! Tell your craven lords 
Tbat I am Adnab, wbose twin brotber died 
Wben winter snowed tbe bills, by Heber's band. 
Wbo gave bis body to tbe kites and crows. 
Tell tbem tbat Molocb's festival draws nigb, 
Wbicb Sisera's motber yearly celebrates 
Witb offerings of seas of virgin blood. 
But since oui* frequent wars bave drained tbeir 

bomes, 
Motbers grow niggard somewbat of tbeir babes ; 
And for tbe costly gift of tbis fair cbild, 
Higb bonour sball I win of our Princess 
To spice tbe sweeter banquet of revenge ! 
Say ye to Heber, once, twice, tbrice, I come. 



s^-- 



JAEL. 11 

Once, for tlie father's dearest blood that flows 
In his child's veins : twice, for the wealthy life 
Of flocks and herds : and lastly, for his own. 
So shall he perish piecemeal ! 

'' Further, bid 
The mongrel curs of Kedesh, that they crouch 
Mute in their kennels till the sunset hour, 
Nor dream of rescue. Fleeter steed than mine 
Spurns not the desert sands, but the first gleam 
That flashes from the hill crest on their spears 
Is the last light this maiden's eyes shall see — 
Her latest heart-throb be the answering chime 
To faintest hoof -beat of pursuit ! " 

He sprang 
Upon his docile steed, and flung the girl 
Boughly athwart his saddle bow, and wheeled — 
A flash of spears, a clash of hurrying hoofs, 
A shrill derisive whoop, — and all were gone ! 
Thus far upon the tale my straining sense 
Had fed, as famished wretches will devour 
A garbage which they loathe and sicken at — 
Thus far, and with a rending agony, 



^= 



12 JAEL. 

Life passed away for ever. I died then. 

* * * * ^ *. 

For even as one o'er wliom death's portals close 
In fullest noontide of young liealth and bloom, 
Wakes in the cold, wan twilight of the shades, 
And momently a chill forgetfulness 
Blots from him all the grace and glow of earth — 
So only, from thenceforth, I lived again. 

Yet kind arms folded me, and soothing words 
Flowed like cool waters through my aching brain. 
''Be of good cheer, poor mother, my true wife ; 
The moon is waning. Not until she rides 
In fuUest splendour wiU foul Moloch's j)riests 
Hold their abhorrent festival. Ere then 
I send thee to Harosheth with a gift 
Worth a Queen's ransom. Sisera's cursed dam 
Loves gold and jewels even than bloodshed more. 
So, at her word, the devil worshippers 
Shall loose their innocent prey. Be of good cheer." 

While yet the crescent moon was young, I stood 
Amid a crowd of laden slaves, who poured 
At Heber's sign, their treasures at my feet. 



^-- 



JAEL. 13 

Amber and ivory, rich, broidered webs 
Of Tyrian purple, jewels wbicb bad graced 
Imperial diadems, pure lucent pearls, 
And moonlike opals, eacb witbin its deptbs 
Holding a prisoned flame. Wine-purple ametbysts, 
And beaven-blue sappbires, and tbe mystic gleam 
Of flawless diamonds, pulsing restlessly 
Tbeir boarded ligbt, long stored in sunless mines ! 
Wondering I gazed, and turned upon my lord 
A mute inquiring glance. He answered it — 
'' How cbeaply may tbe balf of all my wealtb 
Buy back our ravisbed treasure ! Dost tbou fear 
Lest tby ricb freigbt sbould tempt tbe violence 
Of Sisera's robber bordes ? His mother's name 
Will be tby safeguard tlirougb tbe loneliest pass. 
Not Sisera bimself would dare tbe rage 
Of fierce Zarej)ba, of ber bribe despoiled." 

From Tabor's oak- wreathed brow, and wooded 
slopes 
Safely I journeyed, till around bis feet 
Smiled the fair pastures of Esdraelon, 
Thence, through an ever narrowing path, we wound 



14 JAEL. 

Among rude rocks, deep cliaiinelled by the rush. 
Of Kishon's winter torrents, till we came 
Where towered Harosheth in her fortress pride 
Reared her dark head above the mountain gorge. 
Swift-footed rumour had preceded me 
"With fables of the priceless gifts I bore. 
Wide flew the gates to welcome these, 
And eagerly Zarepha summoned me 
To audience, where she sat among her maids 
In the women's court, apparelled like a queen. 
Enthroned and crowned. 

But as I looked on her 
My faint heart fluttered like a wounded bird 
With its slain hope, for on her low dark brows, 
Her sullen curved lips, and hard, cold eyes. 
The fleeted beauty of her passioned youth. 
Like waters ebbing from a foul morass, 
Had left revealed in all its hideousness 
A crafty, cruel nature. Through her smile 
The fanged snarl glittered. Her caressing voice 
Was like the wild cat's purr, a softened growl. 
''Hail, daughter of the Kenites — true allies 



JAEL. 15 

To Jabin, our sovereign lord, are they ! 
And worthy of your sheplierd prince tlie, gift 
He sends to a king's sister ! Speak the boon 
That I can grant — but ere thou ask, 'tis thine." 

Kissing her garment's hem, I faltered forth 
My tremulous prayer, and when I ceased to speak, 
O'er her fierce eyes there stole a softening haze 
That showed her almost human. 

'' Ask of me 
Some other boon : in this I have no power. 
'Tis pity of the child — a weakling slip — 
She pined and fretted as your yeanling lambs 
Bleat for the ewes ; and though my women sought 
With kindly words or necessary stripes 
To soothe or rouse her, — all in vain — she died. 
What ! thou art comely still, and yet may see 
Strong lusty sons about thee, better worth 
The rearing, than a peevish froward maid. 
Gro to, I will do sacrifice for this, 
Moloch, by me full fed with blood of babes, 
Will scarce deny me. Ask some other boon." 

One only boon I craved, — the fair pure corse 



^= 



^.= 



--i^ 



16 



yAEL. 



Of my dead darling, to bear liome with me 
For funeral rights and honour. Then, as one 
By unacenstomed pang of pity galled. 
She turned upon me : the hoarse tigress purr 
Changed to the threatening snarl, ''Lo, you!" she 

cried, 
''See how this woman seeks a cause of strife 
To kindle broils between her tribe and us ! 
I cannot raise the dead, nor from the maw 
Of wolf or jackal snatch their three days' feast ! 
Around Harosheth we have stately tombs 
Of prince and warrior, but the desert's space 
Were all too strait for burial ground for each 
Banged orderly, side by side, whom they have 

slain. 

Or free, or captive. 

''Yet, an if thou wilt. 

Go search the Valley of the Bones, where lie 
Unsepultured the city's nameless dead ; 
And if thou canst reclaim thine own from heaps 
Rifled by vultures, take them and depart ! 
I have no boon for her who will but ask 



JAEL. 17 

AMiat neither prince nor god hath, power to give ! 
Away with her ! and to the western gate 
Guide her unharmed ; but an she turn again 
See that ye scourge her homeward to her tents." 
They led me, not ungently, to the gates, 
And put me forth, pointing the path that wound 
Down from the city walls upon the cliff 
To the Valley of the Bones. 

Oh. YaUey of HeU ! 
Ever remembrance sickens to recall 
Its nameless horrors ! In a strait ravine, 
Frowned on by beetling rocks which seemed to 

press 
To hide it from heaven's holy light, and keep 
Its tainted breathings from heaven's purer air, — 
Heaped with the whitening bones of skeleton dead, 
Or ghastlier forms, as yet but half defaced 
By the gorged vulture that with ruffled plumes 
Dozed o'er its hideous banquet. Aged men. 
With reverend white beards, — and withered forms 
Of faded women clasping shrunken babes, 
Worn by disease or famine, lay beside 
c li 



IS JAEL. 

Strong" youths gashed horribly with sword or 

scourge ; 
The white teeth grinned, the long hair floated 

loose, 
The brown bones faintly rustled as they sank 
A little lower in the crumbling piles ; 
And still the brooding vultures watched, and still 
Beat the dull sound of heavy flaj)ping wings 
Or stealthy footfall of the prowling wolf. 

But the first shuddering horror past, one thought 
Alone possessed me, — this grim bridal-bed 
Of Death should never hold Tier virgin limbs ! 
But vain my search, though daring once the fangs 
Of a gaunt jackal, snatching from his gripe 
A rounded, youthful arm, — it was not hers, — 
For on the wrist was stamp of fetters worn 
While yet my darling played beneath my hearth : 
So when the sunset faded on the hills. 
Mute rugged shapes came trooping noiselessly 
From many a secret lair. Their sullen eyes 
Glared on me as they passed. I rose to flee, 
But startled, paused, where close beside my path 



SS-- 



!S 

7AEL. 19 

A grizzly pair of gaunt hyenas strove 

For something the fierce struggle hid from me. 

With a sharp yell, they rent it, and each fled 

Bearing his portion to his distant den. 

But. as I moved, there glittered at my feet,— 

Only a golden coin of little ^orth. 

Close-braided in a tress of night-black hair ! 
Ah me ! the silken gloss had dropt away 
From that rich hair, since my own hands' had wove 
That simple amulet among its braids ; 
Smiling to see its golden sparkle hide 
Among theii' wealth of soft luxuriance ! 
False flaunting amidet ! that coidd not save 
The rosy head then nestling on my knee ! 
And yet, kind amulet, that spared me this, 
The little that is left to me of my all ! 

* ^* * ^s -i:- « 

But Heber stood and watched upon the heights 
For the first sign of our returning band, 
And seeing but a lonely woman, wrapt 
In way-worn weeds, bowed down with weariness. 
Glanced from me carelessly, until I paused 

c 2 



20 JAEL. 

Before "him — tlir owing off my veil — and held 
Silently towards him, on my outstretched palm, 
That tress of night-black hair. 

^ * ^4 % * % 

AVhen daj^break dawned 
I learnt that in an infinite sorrow lay 
Yet deeper depths of pain ; beside my bed 
In mute farewell the childless father stood, 
Uncompanied, unarmed but for his spear, 
And sandalled for a journey. When I clung 
Weeping around him, and had fain delayed. 
Gently he loosed my clasping arms, and said, 
*' Fear not for me, I go to Sisera's camp 
To ask for justice : but I may not leave 
My home defenceless ; since our trustiest slaves 
Are held in cursed Harosheth, all the rest 
I leave to guard our tents and flocks and thee. 
I go not by the highways, by the swarm 
Of heathen thieves infested ; but lone paths, 
Untrodden save by hunters when they seek 
The wounded wild goat, or the eagle's brood. 
In such I fear no foe, — nor fear for me — 



^■ 



JAEL. 21 

Strong arm, fleet foot, true aim shall serve me 

stm." 
He left me. On the second night I lay 
In heavy dreamless slumber that ensues 
On long unrest, — when on my shoulder fell 
A touch that waked me, starting ; and a voice 
Hissed in mine ear, 

'' Wake, wife of Heber, wake ! 
For I ani Adnah ! — Once, twice, thrice, I come. 
Once, — lo, the childless hearth! twice, — and I 

leave 
The slaughtered shepherds and the plundered 

folds ! 
Yet once again— the gibbet on the hill 
Shall flaunt a newer burthen in the sun ! " 

And came not with the dawn the low of kine, 
Or bleating of the flocks, or herdsmen's call. 
Stabbed in their sleep lay some around the tents. 
But all the rest had vanished like the dew 
That mute sii^occo scorches with a breath. 
Then trembling messengers from Kedesh came 
And led me to the shelter of their homes, — 



^^ 



^.: 



fg 

22 J A EL. 

Led me, nor lotli, nor willing. Listlessly, 
As one wlio loses sense of suffering. 
In very weariness of utter pain, 
I waited in their town ni}^ lord's return. 

And Heber reached the camp, making appeal 
To Jabin's chief, for judgment on the wrong 
Done to his true ally : but Sisera laughed. 
And said, '' This Adnah is my bravest spear. 
And thou hast slain the brother of his love. 
Yet whined he not to me for vengeance. Nay, 
His own strong arm sufficed to do him right. 
One only child was thine ! round Adnah's home 
Grambol a score of brown lithe lads and girls : 
But babes and women cumber warriors. 
Gro! if thou canst, avenge thee twentyfold. 
But irk not me with squabbles of the tents." 

But Adnah, leaving slaves and followers 
In charge of all his booty, went alone 
To seek an eaglet in the mountain pass. 
And Heber homeward wending, met him there. 
So hand to hand they fought, none witnessing, 
Till caitiff Adnah, sorely stricken, fell. 



J A EL. 23 

And Heber, spurning', left liim where lie lay, 
Fit pasturage for beasts and bii'ds obscene. 

But wben my lord within the council hall 
Of Kedesh, with his tribesmen gathered round, 
Stood, pleading with impassioned eloc[uence 
That they would raise the war-cry of revolt 
And from the long oppression free the land. 
Each on the other glanced with sidelong eye 
As who should sa}' ' speak thou,' but aU were 

mute, 
Till, doubtfully, an elder rose and said, 

^' Alas, oiu' brother! will the dappled herds 
Turn on the hunter when the shaft hath laid 
Their noblest antlers low ? Our tribe is few, 
And Jabin's hosts are many as the swarm 
Of locusts borne upon the eastern wind. 
Alas, for the fair child ! but will the blood 
Of all our babes, shed in foid massacre, 
Avail to make thy pleasant vine reflower ? 
Half of the wealth we own is freely thine 
So thou wilt bide within oiu' walls, nor tempt. 
With mad revolt, the ruin of our race." 



24 J A EL. 

Then Heber, '' Kenites, — bretkren never more, — 
Ye offer tbe poor alms of half your ^vealth 
To me, who, but in equal barter, asked 
For manhood's faith, and brotherly loyalty. 
Henceforth no bond unites us. Cringe ye still, 
The chidden hounds jq are, to Sisera's lash. 
The kennel and the chain for mongrel curs 
Who will not shew their teeth unless ye threat 
Theii' hoarded dole, tho' nobler ban-dogs bay 
Their deep-mouthed warnings round the gates ! 

For me, 
I shake your city's dust from oft' ni}^ feet. 
Counting as equal to my foe the friend 
"WTio coward fears to right me or avenge! " 

He rent his robe, and from his turban tore 
And trampled underfoot the jewelled clasp 
That marked his rank ; then turned and passed 

away, 
Leaving them silent, gazing each on each. 

■i'c "k' a- ^i * * 

So here thenceforth our dwelling: our sole wealth 
Two aged slaves, and some few goats that browsed 



JAEL. 25 

Upon the herbs that scantily fringed the rocks ; 
We lived unharmed by Sisera's roving bands, 
Who passed us by, too poor to tempt their greed, 
Too noble for their insult. 

But the chill 
Of sorrowing silence in that smileless home, 
The forced inaction, with the growing sense 
Of utter impotence — and, worst of all, 
The anguish of a heart whose pulses beat 
To scorn, which once was love — untimely bent 
His stately form, unstrung his iron arm. 
And snowed his whitening beard with frost of eld. 

For womanhood can longer bear the load 
She stoops beneath, than manhood can endure 
The stress and strain to uplift it worthily. 
The pliant willow sways before the storm 
That cleaves the sycamore. And thus he fell — 
The noble tree to which I vinelike clung ; 
Whose boughs had shared with me the morning 

dews, 
And cooled for me the summer noontide heats ; 
And when the tempest with its lightning scathe 



^'= 



26 yAEL. 

Had bared its piteous splinters to tlie sky, 
Still kept me sliade enougli wliereiii to weep ! 
■»•»•» "Se- ■» -K^ 

I have lost couut of time. Have months or 
years 
Passed since we laid him in his cavern tomb ? 
Surely but months ; for yonder fig tree, grown 
Within the sheltering angle of the rocks, 
Dropped, purple ripe, its fruit upon his bier, 
Whose autumn knew no fruitage ; and to day. 
When victors, and not mourners, from my tent, 
(And not for burial) dragged a newty dead, 
The last night's hurricane had strewn the path 
With small green winter growths, which afterwards 
Were reddened with a tinge the}^ had not caught 
From glow of summer sun or summer air ! 

In what dim greyness memory steeps the scenes 
So vivid in their act's intensity ! 
The shadow births of sleep, mere bodiless things. 
And soulless in the records of the past, 
Bear oft more life-like semblance than do these 
That were, and are not ! 



^ e g 

JAEL. 27 

I lose count of time. 
For hours, or days, have I sat musing here ? 
Hours only. AMien I entered, dusky gloom 
Was everywhere ; and now the moon rides high 
Above the mountain range, and floods the plain 
With sheets of silver. 

'Tis no dream, no dream ! 
A lurid light, but not of earth or heaven, 
Sweeps mistily between me and the sky, 
And quivering plays around the shrouded form 
Of one who stands without. His mantle's fold 
Is round his head. I cannot see his eyes. 
Alas ! I know reproach is in their gaze, 
Although from mine averted. My lost lord ! 
It is not fear that takes all strength from me, 
So that I sink, thus prostrate, at thy feet ! 
Not fear — could love fear any shape that wore 
Thy likeness ? Nay, but all the saddened hours 
Of j)arting throng on me, and crush me down 
With a great yearning : yet I clasp thee not ; 
Some subtle influence, with repellent breath 
Withholds me. Now 'tis bluiTed, receding slow: 
li 



28 



JAEL. 



i& 



The awful portent fades ! 

Too well I read 
Thy gesture's sad significance ! The blood 
Of murdered guest upon thy threshold spilt 
Must bar thee thence for ever ; thee, whose foe, 
Red from the slaughter of thy sire, had claimed 
And proved inviolate the sacred pledge 
Of broken bread, and granted sanctuary ! 
Yet, my lord, thou knowest not : too dim 
The light that flickers in the tomb, too low 
The whispering voices there. Hear me appeal ! 
Deny me not my crown, which is no crown 
If tarnished by reproachful blame of thine. 
But thou hast left me, I will follow then. 
Leaving the blood-stained hearth. Behold, I kneel 
Beside the stone that covers all I love. 
Sobbing, Oh, Heber ! hear me ! 

'Tis no dream. 
A wan mist curls about me, and a sigh 
Breathes from it, — "I am here, and hearken, 
speak." 
Thou knowest I am not cruel. In my youth, 



"S-, 



^, ^ — = 

JAEL. 29 

(Hast thou forgotten thou didst chide me f or't ?) 

Seeking among the woods a straying lamb, 

I came upon a she bear in her den 

Panting and spent, spear- wounded unto death; 

And round her moaned and whined her famishing 

cubs, 
Striving to di'aw from her dry teats their life 
AATiose source was failing. \^Tien she saw me 

come 

She tried to rise in their defence, but fell, 

Growling in impotent menace. As I gazed 

The foolish mother-pity stirred in me, 

So that I went and brought new milk and bread. 

And laid within her reach, and as she drank 

The love-fed springs welled forth again, and thus 

I left the cubs unharmed in their content. 

And thou didst chide me, smiling. — 

Yet, oh yet, 

I slew him, on the breast of sacred sleep ! 

% % % ^- % ^ 

"Wild raged the storm through the precipitous 
gorge, 



--0 



30 



JAEL. 



AVild through, the darkness rushed the diiving rain, 
Beat back the curtains of my tent, and whirled 
Sharp clouds of spray against my blinded ej^'es ; 
Yet through the fitful whistling of the wind, 
The tempest's mocking shriek, or booming roar, 
And the hoarse thunder of old Kishon's flood. 
Came to my listening ear the exultant shout 
Of fell pursuit, the clanging chariot wheels, 
The trampling hoofs, as, speeding for their lives 
To towered Harosheth, Sisera's vanquished hosts 
Fled to their ambushed death in the swollen stream ! 

Then the shrill clamour sank confusedly 
To a low, blended murmur, Kke the hum 
Of angry bees swarming within the hive ; 
And the rain ceased, the stormy light grew pale, 
As dropt the quiet veil of eventide 
Over the rugged slopes and marshy plain. 

Slow from the lengthening shadow of the rocks 
Crept forth a solitary fugitive. 
Asking for shelter, stretching suj)pliant hands ; 
But staggering while he spoke, he reeled and fell 
Prostrate before me. Sisera ! that name 



JAEL. 31 

So long a wliispered curse among the tribes ! 
Now yelled in fierce revenge and hungry hate ! 
How changed ! how humbled ! faint from battle 

strife, 
Shamed by defeat, his jewelled sword and shield 
Flung from him in the frenzy of his flight. 
The shattered plume shorn from his broken casque, 
Haggard and pale, drenched by the beating rain, 
Weary, and weak, and wounded ! As I stooped 
To raise and lead him tenderly within. 
The foolish mother-pity stirred in me, 
As when I fed the wounded bear whose fangs 
Had torn the yeanlings of my flock. No thought 
Was mine, dear lord, to harm him or betray. 

I gave him diink, and bathed his swollen feet, 
Washing the blood clots from his tangled hair 
And matted beard, soothed him with kindly words. 
And spread my finest fleeces for his couch, 
Folding my richest mantle round his limbs, 
Chilled by exhaustion, till o'erspent, he slept. 

And then, upon the threshold of the tent, 
I sat to watch, that no pursuit should gain 



§^'- 



32 JAEL. 

On his defenceless slumber ; but no stir 

Of voice or footstep broke tbe solemn busb. 

Of new-fallen nigbt ; no murmur from tbe camp ; 

And Elisbon's angry torrent-roar bad sunk 

To a low sobbing. Frostily and clear 

Sparkled tbe stars ; and one its arrowy beam 

Darted so keenly on tbe sleeping face 

Upturned beneatb it, tbat I balf arose 

To screen from bim tbe perilous ligbt, but stayed 

Gazing in wonder on bim. From bis brow 

Tbe gracious sleep bad smoothed away tbe lines 

Of craft and cruelty, and softly laid 

Sucb restful calm on tbe close-folded eyes 

And quiet-breatbing lips, as migbt bave shewed 

Had Death's pure waters from his guilty soul 

Washed every taint or stain. Beside that form 

A mother might have knelt in tender prayer, 

Serene as that which blest bis infancy ! 

But here my startled thought recoiled, as one 
Who, amid roses, waits the nightingale, 
And in the silence bears the screech-owl hoot ! 
His mother ! — Sisera's mother ! — tigress-dam, 



-s^ 



J A EL. 33 

Hearing her tiger- wlielp on blood, not milk ! 
Once, on a motlier's heart her trampKng foot 
Had torn the furrows for a bitter seed 
Of curse ; and lo, the harvest ! 

A stem Yoice 
Spake near me — whether on the earth or air 
I know not — low as whisper in a dream, 
But yet distinct and clear as peals afar 
The trumpet-call to battle. Thus it said: — 

'' Jael, the night is passing, round thee swarm 
The troubled spirits of thy dead, — they stretch 
Theii' phantom hands to thee, bidding thee rise, 
And strike for vengeance." 

Fearless, I replied : — 

" In the holy name of guest he sleeps secure. 
No daughter of my people but were shamed 
By base betrayal of that sacred trust." 

"Yea, so," the Yoice rejoined, ''but were it 
well 
Thy household hearth should be a sheltering lair 
For human wolves like Sisera ? — that again 
He plough the land with graves, and water it 

^: — — - " ^ 



=-0 

34 JAEL. 

With, widows', orplians' tears. Canst thou forget? 
Strike ! widowed wife of Heber, strike ! avenge 
The sorrows that have made thee desolate ! " 
Then I : — ''I forget nothing, — least forget 
How, ever righteously my loyal spouse 
Had kept the sanctuary law, though claimed 
By suppliant hands stained with his dearest blood. 
Weep as I may, I will not weep for this. 
That I have brought dishonour on his race, 
And on his tomb reproach." 

Again the Voice : — 
" All reverence to the tomb ! Who slumbers there 
Lies calm, hearing, as in a quiet dream. 
The tears that drip on him from loving eyes, 
And tender words of praising ; but for those 
Who have no tomb it is not well. They stray 
Wailing, and drifting homeless on the blast. 
Or sadly watch their whitening bones that lie 
Stript and dishonoured round the jackal's den. 
Hearken the spirit of thy maiden child ; 
Wearily wandering, she cries for rest 
Won for the dead, by injuries avenged ! " 



^~- 



7 A EL. 35 

'' Voice, " I answered, ^'legends wild as these 
Are blurred and false, to eyes that win, like mine, 
True insight through much weej)ing ! For my 

child, 
Sure Grod hath breathed her spirit to Himself 
As we inhale the fragrance of a rose, 
Through all its scattered petals. I have seen 
(The mist of tears softening Heaven's blinding 

blue) 
Above the highest j)eaks a golden glimpse 
Of her fair Eden home ; yea, sometimes caught 
The far faint sweetness of a strain that left 
But discords on the earth from which it died ! 

'^ Let her sing on her happy girlish songs. 
Whose perfect music needed not, nor needs 
The lifted note of angels ! and when God 
Shall open, to her innocent pui'e prayer. 
The gate whereat she leans and looks for me, 
No carrion scent of slaughter shall pollute 
The airs of Paradise ; no word of wrong, 
No bitter vengeful memory shall mar 
The heavenworth rapture of a mother's kiss." 

D 2 



36 JAEL. 

Followed a pause ; and tlien tlie Yoice resumed, 
But in a softer accent : — '' Strike for rutli, 
If not for vengeance, Jael. Comes the dawn, 
Bringing the swift pursuit, the sure attaint ; 
Por he is weak and worn, and cannot fly ; 
With nameless tortures dragged to Barak's camp. 
And insult worse than torture. In his ej^es 
A dark suspicion and distrust shall vex 
And haunt thee ; for no treachery of thine. 
Were not the blow most kindly that averts 
The fruitless struggle and the sharp despair ? 
So from his dreamless sleej) to dreamless death 
Tranquilly drifting, as through moorland sedge 
Lapses the rivulet to its inland sea." 

Thereat I turned and gazed. Methought a 
smile 
Faint flickered on the lips that well I knew 
Would, waking, smile no more ! 

And still the voice, 
Coldly importunate : — "Strike ! Jael, strike ! 
For ruth, if not for vengeance ! " 

Then I rose. 



^'s^ 



, '^ gg 

JAEL. 37 

Taking the lieavy mallet, and tlie pin 

That fastened back the loopings of the tent, 

And softly bending over him I laid 

The nail against his temple, and struck home. 

The forceful iron crashed through bone and brain 

And bone again. He never writhed nor sighed, 

As the deep slumber deepened into death. 

iS.' *',' •«' ■*.' s ^* 

From Tabor's rose-tipt heights another dawn 

Flushes the purple plain, and wakes the camp 

With multitudinous stir of victor hosts, 

And shouts exultant of a nation freed ! 

And hark ! again in fitful bursts, the cry, 

''Jael," and -'Heber," in one triumph blent, 

As in our marriage j)salm. , 

Oh, dear my lord, — 
Were any worth in praise that did not lift 
Highest thine honoured name ? Take thou this 

joy 

Of thine unchild^d wife, that ages hence 
Men shall be proud to boast ''We are Heber's 
kin." 



^r 



% - ' — 

38 yAEL. 

Mine be the tender monotone tliat tlirills 
Through past and future, the unchanging xow 
Of Love, sole deathless ! soft in the bridal chant, 
And soft, 3^ea, softest, in the funeral hymn — 
•'Blessed is Jael, above women blest, 
Heber, the Kenite's wife ! " 

^\' '\' ^r ^' ^' ^ 

Nor fear lest in the shadows where ye glide 

His pale lips taunt thee with the hearth profaned, 

And violated sanctities of trust. 

From those close-folded eyelids never glanced 

One least reproach. He never sighed nor stirred 

As the deep slumber deepened into death. 





BATHSHEBA. 



-V C»ME round me. girls, the pomp is over now. 
'^* My royal 5C»n and all his stranger-guests 
To the queen-mother having duly paid 
Their fit observance, have swept forth again. 
Leavins: me to my chamber's twilight calm- 
Lay by the gemmed tiara, '^firiam : it galls 
Mv forehead somewhat. Throw the lattic-e wide. 
Deborah ; the fresh air will soothe the pain. 
And. Thyrza. rake away these jewelled clasps 
That weieh like fetters on my withered arms. 



42 BATHSHEBA. 

How sweet and cool tlie breeze ! its every breath 
Is redolent of memories of tbe past ! 

^ % % % % % 

I was so young, so young ! Twelve summers 

scarce 
Had rounded into grace my girlisb form, 
Or ripened beauty which [it seems but late] 
Hath been the whispered wonder of the tribes. 
My mother gave her life for mine ; and old, 
And poor, and weak from poverty and age, 
My father's dim eyes praised me not, but kept 
All stranger- glances from the veiled home 
Where I dwelt shrined — and knew not I was fair. 
But ever o'er his darkening sight the film 
Slow gathered, and his faltering footsteps failed. 
And oft he sat apart, in broken speech 
Sad murmuring, '^ The end, the end is near." 

One summer eve, returning from the field 
With the few sheep I tended, in the house 
I heard my father's feeble cjuerulous tones 
In commune with a stranger voice — a voice 
That might have thundered in the battle-storm, 



BATHSHEBA. 43 

Or softened near tlie slumbers of a babe. 

Then first I sa^ Uriah. No fair youth, 

Though still in vigorous manhood; — grave and 

stern, 
But with a sternness no ^veak thing had feared. 
He glanced not towards me as I mutely crept 
And crouched within the shadow, listening 
"WTiile thus Eliam spoke : — 

' ' 111 times ! ill times ! 
The spirit of our ancient rites is fled, 
Though still on Gilead's heights our damsels 

roam, 
Yearly bewailing Jephtha's mart}Ted child. 
With mincing steps the}'- go, and tinkling feet. 
And veils, worn less to ward the ribald gaze, 
Than screen the wanton glance that tempts it ; — nay. 
The license of the camp infects the town, 
And not the lowest onlj", the king's sons — 
The king himself, 'tis whispered " — 

Here I stirred. 
And at my robe's slight rustle he grew mute ; 
But soon resumed : — '' Uriah, I go hence ; 



44 BATHSHEBA. 



But in thy charge I leave my orphan maid, 
And trust to God and thee to keep her pure." 

Then the deep voice, a little hesitant : — 
" I take the trust, my father, though in camps 
Long have I lived, nor cared for smiling homes, 
Nor lisping childhood ; for the blood of kin 
Eusts on the sheathed sword, though tempering 

it 
To keener edge in battle ; and thou knowest — 
All Israel knoweth — wherefore I am lone." 

To him, Eliam: — ''Age is somewhat dull, 
And oft tradition varies on the lips 
Of careless speakers. Let me hear the tale 
Once more from thine, my son." 

His friend replied : — 
** Not warlike was our house in earlier daj's. 
Remote we dwelt on upland j)astures fair 
Among our flocks and herds. But I had sought 
More stirring life with David's warrior bands, 
When a pale messenger the tidings bore 
That Edom's sons accurst had stolen upon 
My kindi^ed in their peaceful home, and slain 



^^i§, 



^? - — 

BATHSHEBA, 45 

All — from the aged sire to suckling babe ; 

Nor left a breatliing soul alive but one — 

My only sister — flower-sweet maiden pure, 

Whose heart, love-locked in mine, had never yet 

Known any closer tie. The heathen dogs 

Had spared her beauty for a darker doom 

Than death by torture. Long I vainly sought — 

Let Edom's desolated cities say 

How I avenged her ! But when Bozi'ah fell, 

Within its palace gate I saw her stand, 

And with repellent gesture wave me back 

From clasping her, while calmly thus she spake: — 

'' My brother, I have tarried long for thee. 
Of all our line but thou and I are left. 
Strike deep, and cleanse the horror from my 

blood, 
And give me back the latest pure embrace 
That blest our parting ! " 

*' And I smote her deep. 
So deep, that all life's tainted stream flowing 

forth, 
Left pure the kiss she gave me as she died." 



46 BATHSBEBA. 

" So didst thou well," Eliam said, " and all 
I ask of thee for this my lily-bud, 
Thine honoured name to shield her from reproach, 
And thy true sword to avenge its lightest stain." 
Slowly the Hittite bowed his head, then turned — 
*' Come hither, Bathsheba ! " I went to him, 
Fearlessly gazing in his face. He took 
My two small hands in one of his, and laid 
The other on my hair, and blessed me. Hands 
Kough from the sword-hilt, strong and sinewy ; 
Yet was their touch as gentle as a child's 
Who fears to bruise a captured butterfly ; 
While, o'er the dark brows, seamed with battle 

scars, 
Full-bearded Kps, and grave unsmiling eyes. 
There broke such sudden light of tenderness 
That all my childish heart went out to him, 
Although, as yet, the woman waked not there. 

That night Azrael on our threshold paused 
And breathed Eliam' s name. 

And when the dead 
Was borne awaj, Uriah took my hand 



BATHSHEBA. 47 

And led me to his house. In mourning weeds 
Close wrapped, I went, nor sorrowful, nor glad ; 
And since imperious Joab's summons called 
My husband to the camp, long months I lived 
Content within his house a virgin bride. 
And with me dwelt the old Keturah ; she, 
The foster-mother of my infancy. 
Childless and widowed, at Uriah's prayer 
Had hastened to protect and comfort me. 
Our home was but a lowly cottage, dropj)ed 
Uj^on a mountain slope, and rudely fenced 
With thorny bushes from the sheep that strove . 
To reach the rambling branches of the vine, 
Sunning its tendrils where the lizards basked. 
Across a deep ravine, upon the hills 
Which fronted us, the royal city stood ; 
And sometimes to our listening ears was borne 
The softened hum of traffic, or the strains 
Of music, or we watched the festal pomp 
Of gay procession streaming from the gates ; 
But far, so far beyond, we had no part 
In aU the joyous stir. 



^- 






48 



BATHSHEBA. 



I was content. 
The simple cares and pleasures of my liome 
Sufficed me. It was joy enough, forme 
To frolic with the kid upon the grass, 
To chase the bird, or watch the butterflies 
Expand their rainbow wings among the flowers. 
Or, when the darkness closed on us, to ply 
The distafl ; listening, while Keturah told 
Tales oft repeated of our warrior king ; 
Praising his valour, kindliness, and faith. 
Which had endeared him to his people's heart, 
And graved his name in gold there. Day by day 
My childish fancy on the portrait dwelt. 
Even as we gaze upon some glittering star 
Till on our dazzled eyes it swims in brightness ; 
Chief star in heaven's innumerous galaxy. 
Thus, in such luminous haze the king became 
Sole hero in my thought — but not my heart. 
Because as yet the woman waked not there. 
One eve, while musing in the sunset glow, 
I heard Keturah call, '' Where art thou, child? 
I have blithe news for thee. To-morrow dawn 



^^ 



%>-= 



-^s 



BA THSHEBA . 



49 



The kiag comes forth, to ^vorship, with the priests, 
Holding high festival for prayer and praise. 
The choral band of maidens own no voice 
So sweet as is my bird's, although as yet 
She hath but sung for me. But her cage-door 
I will set wide for once. Nay, do not shrink, 
I shall be with thee. Take the costly veil 
With threads of gold inwoven, which thy spouse 
Gave thee from Amnion's spoils, and braid thine 

hair 
"With freshest flowers — and we will see the king." 
Bashful and half reluctant I went forth 
At early dawn, Keturah leading me. 
And joined the virgin choir. Then first I saw 
A city in her gladness ; but my gaze 
Dwelt not on gleaming gems, or tossing plumes, 
Or white-stoled priests — I only saw the king ! 

Scarce past the bloom of life, and wearing still 
The beauty that in golden youth had won — 
Won but to lose — the sullen heart of Saul, 
He stood above the crowd that pressed and siu'ged 
Around him. All the prophet light that rayed 



^'- 



^ : : :_ lis c l-ir eve? illnined his noble fomi, 

Witk his upraised hand 
Hr 1 fsei Lis p^ T-e as a Hng should bless, 
I -T ^li ^e sweetness of a father's smile 
On eherisjiT - ___ .: :, ^_ .t ^e raptured cry 
Swelled loud and louder from a thousand throatB : 
• Long Kve our royal seer ! On Israel's throne 
May Darid's line for erer reign and role ! " 
Then, -with a e'ejtnre full of grace and power, 
5!r i-v -_ - :_r TTud aodaim. 1^~ kneelinof 



1 

0= 



SpmT.'k ii* Lis feet- and slQ -Lr Lreathles air 
Thr -'r i — '*h tL^ i—^ :i 'worship. 

Then, the dash 
(l^ sudden crmbals. pausing for the strains 
C>i s-i'fter late and harp ; and last, i 
TLt ^ imph of the choral hymn i 

And as we praised oar Gk)D, my soul seemed j 






ords, tin my roice soared 



-a 



BATHSHEBA. ol 

To j'l'in the angels at heaTen's gate. Alas ! 
Wlien highest soars the lark, an earthlv shaft 
Mav lay her lowest. Jubilant I sang. 
While from mv eager lifted face the Teil 
Fell back, as from a blossom falls the sheath. 
In noontide's blaze — and David looked <m me- 
TTts eyes held mine but f oer a moment's space. 
Yet all the woman woke in me to read 
Their message — for it told me I was ^irr ! 
That night, when at my side Ketnrah. lay 
Heavily slumbering. I softly rose ' 

And wandered forth to breathe a fresher air. 
And gaze upon the city as she slept. I 

"White in the m«x>nlight. girdled by her walls. 
But not as yet apparelled in the state 
Wherewith Kiug Solomon hath decked her — ^joy 
Of the whole earth for beauty. Cedar halls. 
Or marble terrac-es. these were not yet : 
Nor palac-es begirt with gilded courts, I 

And groves of Eden fragrance ; nor — cniel crown 
' Of heaven's pure bride — the temple of her God, „ 
I Adorned with aU the world c-an boast of wealth \ 
\ K 2 



52 BA THSHEBA. 



Or dream of splendour. Our warrior prince 
Witli fort and tower liad armed Iter ; but the 

times 
Had served not for sucli patient works as need 
Years of unmenaced peace, and friendly aids 
Of commerce to perfect them. Yet, even then 
How beautiful was Zion ! yea, more fair 
Than now I see her in her queenliest pride. 
Oh ! frowardness of age, that still withholds 
Praise from the living present, lest it wrong 
The perished past. Nay, blossom-laden youth 
To reach unopened buds lets fall her flowers, 
Which age, slow following, gathers up, to store 
Their perfume through the gloom of hueless 

days. 
The night was sultry, though the year was 

young ; 
Still, from the loftiest peaks the latest snows, 
Tardily melting, fed a rivulet 
That danced adown the rocky steeps which made 
A natural barrier, which no foe could storm. 
Around the palace gardens ; pausing there. 



BATHSHEBA. 53 



To batlie tlie roots of overlianging trees, 
Where, circled by low walls, the palace roof 
Grlimpsed through their foliage. But ye will not 

find 
That river now, its course is turned aside, 
Its channel deepened : symbol of my life — 
Its waters locked in silver limpid pools 
May sparkle in the jewelled chalice touched 
By royal lips, but not again shall leap 
In heaven's free air and sunshine. 

Seeking once 
A herb of healing virtue, I had come 
(Once only) to a narrow pebbly ledge 
Washed by this stream ; but hurriedly withdrew 
Because it was forbidden to approach 
So near the household pleasaunce of the king ; 
But now, a wish, born half of wilfulness, 
Half of the restless fever in my veins, 
Allured me, since all slept, again to seek 
Those pure cold waters. With fleet step I passed 
Along a hidden pathway, rarely trod, 
Save by wild mountain goat or shepherd maid. 



54 BATHSHEBA. 



And grained tlie river's bank. No creature stirred. 

No breath, no motion, scared my listening ear, 

Only tbe fountain's tinkle, and the dip 

Of drooping branches in the passing wave. 

Tlie palace and its terrace-roof lay hid 

In darkest shadow ; but the water gleamed, 

A flood of silver, in the silver light, 

Which glanced and filtered through the cedar 

trees. 
Within the walls the fountains rose and fell 
In murmurous cadence, but no other sound 
Broke on the silence — for the city slept. 

I laid aside my veil, unclasped my zone, 
And plunged into the stream that closed me 

round, 
Mashing a myriad welcomes ; then I loosed 
My braided hair that floated to my knee, 
A wealth of silken glory, and I raised 
My shining arms to watch the beaded drops 
Slip from their slender curves — more creamy 

soft 
Than opening petals of the lotus buds, — 



BATHSHEBA. 



And splashed with, dimpled feet the dimpling 

wave, 
While moonlight, starlight, kissed me where I lay 
Low-laughing, that I knew myself so fair ! 
My God ! is any gladder sound on earth 
Than the pure laughter of an innocent maid, 
For very joy of Thy good gift of being? 
Doth it not praise Thee more than angels can ? 
Lord, for that happy worship, I thenceforth 
Could give but broken breath of sobbing pain ! 
Keturah, waking, watched for my return, 
And shrewdly chid me, 'Tie I what didst thou, 

girl, 
E-oaming at midnight near the city forts ? 
So, haply evil men had harmed nw maid. 
All slept, thou say'st ? But ill men never sleep, 
"Wakeful as wolves are when they scent a prey. 
Bide, silly sheep, secure within the fold 
Where only thou art safe, and stray no more." 
But wolves may leap the fence and climb the 
fold ; 
As, truly, ere three nights were past, they did. 



o6 BATHSHEBA. 



Awaked from quiet sleep and smiling dreams 

I saw Keturali bending o'er my bed, 

A trouble in lier eyes and in ber Toice. 

"Hise. cbild,*' sbe said, '"tbe king batb need of 

thee; 

His Nubian slaves await tbee at the door, 

To lead thee to his feet." Then, hurriedly 

Ajiswering my questioning look of mute amaze: — 

" Fear nothing, oh ! be sure, no cause for fear ! 

David is just and kin«ily, he but asks 

The seraph voice that charmed him in the choir 

To calm the fever of his spirit, jarred 

By some harsh discord from the evil ones. 

What know I ? erst his music soothed Saul. 

Fear nothing." 

But indeed I felt no fear, 

Only exultant gladness and surprise ; 

Nor, in my childish ignorance of ill, 

Could fear a wrong that bore no name for me. 

So went I forth, undoubting. At the door 

"Waited a closely-curtained litter, borne 

Bv mute soft-footed Nubian slaves ; and one, 



S! 



BATHSHEBA. bl 

Their cliief, uith low obeisance, led me in. 
Then, still in silence, Tvaved Keturah back ; 
And at his sign they fleetly moved away. 

The moon was low ; a brooding stillness lay 
On the hill-side, and on the silent forts. 
Only a faint wind whispered to the boughs 
That caught at me, to stay me as I passed. 
A jackal shrilly yelped upon the heights, 
And hoarsely bayed a watch-dog by the fold ; 
But I, poor silly sheep, I felt no fear. 

* * * ^.1 *i * 

While yet the dawn but lightly flushed the hills 
I stood once more upon the threshold, whence 
Keturah, watching through the livelong night, 
Had waited my return ; but ere she passed 
The Nubian stayed her, placing in the porch 
A cage of snow-white doves, and whispering low, 
*' Keep thou these bii'ds in thrall ; if peril threat 
The damsel, or if need of help arise. 
Tie but a scarlet thread among their plumes 
And loose them ; and that night I will return." 
He went. Keturah followed me : one glance 



eg 
58 BATHSHEBA. 

Slie gave, tlien drew me close within lier arms, 
Wrapping my veil around me while she moaned, 
''Hush, hush, my child! for kings can do no 

wrong, 
Do what they list, and none may say them nay. 
AVas it not so foretold us by the seer, 
T\Tien Israel wearied of her Grod, and craved 
An earthly sovereign ? Spake not Samuel then, 
' The king shall take thy daughters and thy sons 
For bondsmaids and for bondsmen. Thou shalt 

cry 
To thy rejected Lord because of him. 
The king whom ye have chosen.' Even so. 
'Tis even so, alas! My child, be still." 
And I went softly ; I was very still : 
A child no more, though all my maiden dreams 
Were fled, and something bare and cold, the 

truth. 
Dawned on the rudely wakened woman-soul. 
Was this my hero, lapt in selfish ease, 
Safe-guarded by the biicklers of a host, 
Eobbing the homes defenceless for his sake ? 



BATHSHEBA. 59 



Was this my poet love ? And, even as one 
"WTiose eyes uplifted to the holy stars, 
Drop, blinded by the lurid smoke and glare 
Of revellers' torches, so my soul recoiled 
From the coarse light that shamed it I 

Came a day. 
When, long my languid movements following 
With wistful eyes, Keturah held my head 
Pressed to her bosom, while she questioned me. 
Arising then to take a captive bird. 
And dye with fresh pomegranate juice its beak 
And snowy plumes ; next set it free to speed 
Back to its nest. The Nubian came at night, 
And bore from me this message to his lord : — 
'' My husband fights the battles of the king. 
At Joab's call he hastened to the camp 
And left me maiden : soon will he return 
To find a child — thy child — upon my breast. 
And since upon the daughters of our house 
Unexpiated guilt may never rest, 
His armed heel will crush the tainted life 
From shamed mother and unfathered babe — 



r^ 

60 BATHSHEBA. 

See tliou to that." 

But there came no reply ; 
Although Keturah watched the palace gate, 
Or in the streets paced restless to and fro. 
Ere long I marked her toiling up the steep, 
Panting and pale, with fear-dilated eyes. 
'' My poor lost child ! " she faltered brokenly. 
Uriah is at hand ! By Joab sent, 
He brings the city tidings of the siege, 
And will be here at nightfall. Sweet my child. 
Bind up thy tresses, don thy festal robes. 
So haply thy young beauty may win grace 
From thy stern spouse, to spare thee and forgive." 

''Not so," I answered, "prostrate on the earth. 
With sackcloth spread, in garments rent and 

soiled, 
And ashes strewn upon my veiling hair : 
So will I lie, and silent wait my doom." 

Slowly the long night passed, but all was mute ; 
Only the yelp of jackals on the heights, 
Or angry bay of watchdogs round the folds. 
Again with morning came the stir of flocks, 



BA THSHEBA. 61 



Bleating of slieep, and low of patient kine, 
The lium of bees, the shrill cicala's chirp : 
No human voice or footfall. Then once more 
The night's dread hush, and shrinking wordless 

fears. 
On the third day, Keturah, closely veiled, 
Left me, and sought the city ; thence at eve 
Returning, with blithe voice she cried to me, 
"Be of good cheer, my child, the cloud hath 

passed; 
Uriah, hastening to the camp, hath given 
This scroll for thee, which Malachi the scribe 
Wrote from his mouth, and thou hast skill to 

read." 
Full fair the scroll was writ as by a scribe, 
From speech of one more apt to use a plume 
To wing a shaft than form a pen. It said : — 
'' I have been near thee, sweet. By Joab sent 
To bear a secret errand to the king ; 
Who, with his wonted graciousness, received 
And communed with me long. * Go to thine 

house,' 



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62 BATHSHEBA. 



He said, dismissing me. But at his door 
I lay all night among Ms slaves. At dawn 
I liad rejoined mv comrades, but the Mng 
Detained me until evening, sending me 
Sneli delicate meats and c-ostly Trine as made 
Some liaToc in my unaccustomed brain ; 
But when he found me stretched before his door 
"Wiien mom in g rose again, he frowned, and 
aske.i. 

• Why wentst thou not. TTriah. to thine house ? ' 
And I, who feared no royal frown. repHed, 

* By jRabbah's walls, in heat or drenching dews, 
The valiant Joab and my comrades he ; 
While round the sacred ark our reverend priests 
Keep ceasdees vigxL lest that beasts obsc-ene 
Or heathen foes prof a Tie the Holiest ; 
And shall I waste in bridal dalliance 
TKe hours they pass in peril and in prayer ? 
That be far from me, lord. As thy God liveth, 
As thy soul liveth, I will not do this thing ! ' 
He left me, frowning. Frown not thou, dear 

bride, 



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With, outstretched neck, draws nearer — nearer — 

till 
Sudden it springs, and strikes ! 

Thus, while I sat 
Within tke house one glowing noon I heard 
Slow steps approaching, as of those who bring 
A heavy load of sorrow. I sat mute, 
And listened to Keturah's questions low, 
And answering murmurs sad : — 

* ' Too Taliant, he, 
Ever the foremost in the rash assault. 
Pressing so near the city walls.'' Then she : — 
" Was there no rescue ? Did he fall alone ? " 
''Sure not alone, they said, ''though Joab's 
caU 
Withdrew his comrades : ringed around with foes, 
In heaps of slain. Oh, not alone he died I " 
"He died!" And at that word the lurking 
fangs 
Of dark suspicion stung with certainty. 
My lord was murdered ! slain by David's hand. 
Wielding- the sword of Amnion. 



^' 



BATHSHEBA. 65 



Long I lay 
Stretclied in a deatKlike swoon, but waked at last 
To bitter wailing : — '■ AVoiild to God, my spouse, 
Tbat I bad died for tbee ! yea, by tby band. 
AVoidd tbat tbe morning joys of my brief life 
Had passed as fleetly as tbe rainbow bues 

ji On storm-toucbed skies ; so migbt tbine bonoured 

' bead 

Hare worn in reverend asfe its fittinj2: crown 
Of sunset grace and glory. Would to God, 
M}' wedded love, tbat I bad died for tbee ! " 

^' Tben Eabbab fell, and David went to sbare 
'i Tbe triimipb and tbe vengeance. At bis word 

|j (]My dues of mourning paid) bis servants came 

I' 

And led me to bis palace-bome ; and tbere 
j' A son was born of me. And tbere. tbe king, 
i Eeturning from tbe camp in royal state, 
\ Flusbed witb tbe pride of recent victory, 
!■ Hailed me no lon2:er biuuLled concubine. 

But spouse and queen. I scarcely beeded bim, 

Bapt in tbe joy of my best diadem, 



ST 



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6(3 BATHSHEBA. 



Tlie woman's crown of motlierliood ! 

Ah, me ! 
In all eartli's crowns do tears outsliine tlie gems/,^ 
God struck tlie child. 

There were, who marvelled much 
To see the wild abandonment to grief, 
Wherein the sire entreated through long hours 
Of prayer and fasting for that baby-life. 
''Had he not many sons," they mused, '"'more 

worth 
Than this frail bud ? Sons born to him in pride 
Of vigorous j^outh and manhood ; giving back, 
Now in his autumn days, the pictured strength 
And promise of his spring-tide — Absalom, 
The flower of his race, for beauty ; Jonathan, 

And princely Adonijah." > 

Even I 
Knew not, nor then had cared to know, the tale 
"WTiich Nathan told me later ; how, the night 
Before Uriah fell a vision came. 
Declaring to the king that on my breast 
Should lie the hope and glory of his line. 



BATHSHEBA. 67 



Tliough, if the vision were indeed of God, 
And pointed past tlie sin-begotten babe 
To bini wlio rules ns now, I cannot tell. 
But David writbed beneath the threatened curse, 
Deeming the promise forfeit through his crime. 
And trembling for his swaying throne. But I — 
AVith bitterer tears that never wholly dried, 
/ only wept my firstborn ! 

And to me, 
No sorrow had seemed strange for one so fau' ; 
Fair with a glow of promise that earth's suns 
Had coldly ripened. In his wistful eyes 
There was a wisdom such as angels teach 
To those who know as yet but angel's tongue. 
"We brought him flowers and jewel- tinted birds. 
The flowers he looked not at, the birds flew forth; 
And far beyond their flight his glance arose 
To the bright shining stars. He stretched his hands 
To them, as pointing there his heritage, 
To us, whose low thought could not rise above 
Poor glories of earth's blood-won tear-stained 
thrones ; 

f2 



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68 



BATHSHEBA, 



But smiled not till Azrael touched his lips, 
Leaving a smile on them : ^liich still, I think, 
Lights^^up his fathers' tomb. 

The years fled by, 
Each lifting an old burthen as it passed, 
Each bringing a new burthen as it came, 
Till the great sorrow faded. Eound me grew 
Strong stalwart sons, and beautiful sweet maids ; 
And chief, our roj^al sage, the nation's boast. 
Mused at my side. Again I loved the king. 
Not with the reverent homage of mj- 3'outh, 
Long slain and buried with my murdered lord 
In Eabbah's blood-filled trenches. Vision cleared. 
I knew and judged him, as I judge him now. 

A gifted poet-soul, oft soaring high 
Above his fellows, j^et with wearied wing 
Not seldom falling as their lowest, low. 
A nature, childlike-passionate in wrong. 
And childlike-passionate in penitence. 
Kindly and generous. If in weakened years 
The vices of crowned eld with creeping growth 
Obscured his native nobleness, the craft 



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BATHSHEBA. 69 



And politic cruelty, the consciousness 

Of failing j^o'^^ers tliat prompts distrustful dread 

Of strength it may control not : — These but were 

The fungus ills that fester round a tree, 

But are not of the substance of the root 

On which they prey. I held him, and will hold, 

Yea, to the last — God-loving, — God-beloved. 

Girls ! — they regard me not, they lean without 
The lattice, hearkening distant music-strains ; 
And haply yearning for a fuller life 
Than this didl service to an aged queen. 
While I am as some Tyrian mariner, 
Swept with his dead mates from his ruined ship, 
AVho lies and looks with glazing eyes beyond 
The cavern archway to the land he left ; 
A little soothed by sunset— warmth and calm ; 
A little sad for the wrecked lives around ; — 
And sees the twinkling foam-bells flash and pass, — 
And ever fainter hears the muffled roar 
Of ebbing surges shuddering from the shore. 



A. n. GOOSE AND CO., PKIXTERS, NORWICH. 



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